


Razor-Sharp

by alltoseek



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: BWP (Banter Without Plot), Community: spook_me, Gen, Humor, Pre-Slash If You Squint, srsly these ppl won't shut up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 14:31:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8405179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alltoseek/pseuds/alltoseek
Summary: There's a tiny bit of plot about the gang getting together so Ariadne can learn to forge, but mostly it's a lot of banter between Eames and Arthur.





	

Ariadne greeted Arthur at the door with a big smile and an enthusiastic handshake. “Thanks so much for helping me with this.” They were meeting at Ariadne's small but serviceable Parisian apartment.

“No problem,” replied Arthur, returning her smile. “Always a pleasure to train a new forger. Hate to have to rely on Eames every time.” 

“Why,” asked Ariadne, “is he not reliable?”

Arthur's smile turned wry. “Is he here yet?”

“Oh, um...” Ariadne faltered. “Yusuf's here?” she offered.

“Don't worry,” Arthur assured her. “Eames is reliable once you've got him on board. But the dreamshare community is definitely lacking in good forgers, so we're always interested in training a new one.”

“I really enjoy architecture, but that doesn't always give me much to do in the dream itself. And Yusuf says I'm a natural at forging.”

“Oh, Yusuf says, does he?” said Arthur, with another grin. He spotted the chemist coming out of the kitchen. “Hey, Yusuf,” he nodded in greeting.

“Hey yourself, Arthur.” Yusuf set down the vials he'd been carrying next to the PASIV Arthur had brought, then began loading them in.

“How's the new formulation coming along?” asked Arthur.

“Very well, very well. Can't wait to try it. Isn't Eames with you?” asked Yusuf.

Arthur scowled. “No. Why would he be?”

Yusuf and Ariadne exchanged looks. “Always seems that Eames kinda needs a, well, not an escort, precisely...”

“Someone to make sure he shows up, you mean,” said Arthur, rolling his eyes.

“He does tend to get distracted,” agreed Yusuf. “If the person with the chequebook travels with him, it helps keep him on track.”

“Oh,” said Ariadne. “That would be me. Was I supposed to pick him up some place?”

“Don't worry about it,” said Arthur. “He'll show up. When he feels like it.”

“Um, so does it really take four of us just to train one forger?” asked Ariadne.

“Ah,” said Yusuf, “I can explain my part. I'm working on a Somnacin formula that will reduce some of your subconscious' inhibitions, allow you to take other forms – forge someone – more easily.”

“Uh, do I want you all in my head if my inhibitions are reduced?” asked Ariadne skeptically.

“We won't be in your subconscious,” answered Arthur. “You won't be the subject. So we wouldn't be able to learn much of anything from you even if we tried.”

“The formulation is specific to your self-image, at least as specific as it can be,” added Yusuf. “It's not like being drunk or high. You should feel more relaxed, though, less concerned about the apparent 'reality' of the dream. It isn't a formulation you'd use in an actual extraction.”

“We will be in Yusuf's subconscious,” continued Arthur. “I'll be the dreamer. That will free you and Eames to focus entirely on forging.”

“Will Eames have the new formulation too?”

“He doesn't need it,” said Arthur.

“But that does bring up an interesting question of having a control,” said Yusuf. “If for some reason it doesn't work well for Ariadne, it would be useful to know if it has any negative effects on another experienced dreamer.”

“Haven't you tested it?” asked Ariadne.

“On myself, going under solo, yes. But I couldn't test forging capabilities – just that nothing went wrong with a routine dream.”

“I can test solo too,” offered Arthur, “if you have concerns. Or going down in Yusuf's subcon, or yours, Ariadne. But when we're training, I'll want to be focused on holding the dream together, and keeping Yusuf's subsec from becoming alarmed by all the forges.”

“Can you test forging, Arthur?”

Arthur frowned. “I'm not a good forger. I can forge a little, even if I'm the dreamer, but not during an actual extraction. I suppose if you'd be the dreamer, Ariadne, and we'd be in Yusuf's subcon, then I could try forging with the new formulation. I might even develop an improved ability,” he ended with a smile.

“Is that our Arthur admitting to being less than perfect at something?” came Eames' drawl from the entryway. “Why, darling, have you been working on improving your humility?”

Arthur scowled at the newcomer, who was lounging casually against the wall. “You could stand to improve your manners.”

“Oh, was I supposed to pretend I couldn't pick the door lock in my sleep? Hello, Ariadne, always a pleasure to see you.” Eames smiled.

“Thanks for coming,” nodded Ariadne. She brushed by him on her way to secure the deadbolts on the front door, and set the alarm on the apartment exterior.

Yusuf said to Eames, “I was telling them about my new Somnacin mix to make forging easier.”

“Ah,” said Eames, helping himself to an armchair as Ariadne returned. “I'm sorry, Arthur darling, you still need an imagination to forge. Chemicals alone won't do it.”

“If I had to look at your ugly mug in the mirror every morning, I'd imagine a better-looking face too.”

Eames merely lifted a brow. “Perhaps you should exercise your limited creativity by coming up with some better lines. I believe that one peaked in the middle of the last century.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes, flicking his gaze over Eames' face. “Wait. You don't look in your mirror every morning, do you? That's how you deal with being topside.” He rubbed his hand over his own smooth chin. “How long's it been? Three-four days since you shaved?”

“Mmm,” said Eames. “Nice effort, but no points for style or creativity, I'm afraid.”

“I can loan you a razor if you've lost yours,” offered Arthur.

“Of course you can, darling. What you lack in imagination you make up for in _excessive_ preparation.”

Arthur's scowl deepened, and his mouth formed a snarl as he started to reply.

“Ooh, careful, darling, or your face will stick that way – oh, wait, it already has. So sorry.” Eames winked at the others. “As long as we're bringing out the oldies, couldn't resist,” he added in a stage whisper.

“At least I don't object to people seeing my face, instead of burying it under a layer of fur!”

Yusuf had been enjoying the show, sitting back and letting his grin grow into a soft chuckle, but at this he stopped smiling and brought his hand up to caress his own lovely goatee and mustache.

Ariadne interrupted before Eames had a chance to respond to Arthur's goading. “All right, boys, now that you've declared your undying love for one another, can we move on from flirting to forging?”

Arthur frowned at her but Eames replied, “Absolutely. We've set up a simple dream, basically your average house, with a nice big mirror in one room for forging practice. Arthur'll be the dreamer and we'll be in Yusuf's subconscious.”

Ariadne frowned. “Wouldn't it be better for Yusuf to stay topside and monitor us? I mean, not for security reasons, necessarily, but because we're using this new mix.”

“Unfortuantely, it's not possible to forge while in one's own subconscious, so that would leave us in Arthur's. While I am excellent at both dreaming and forging, it does tax my limits to do both, and teach, and fend off Arthur's marvellously well-prepared subsecurity. I suppose we could have Yusuf be both the dreamer and the subject, leaving Arthur topside checking our blood pressure and twiddling his thumbs, but where would the fun be in that?”

“Where indeed,” chuckled Yusuf. 

Arthur shook his head and rolled his eyes. Then he started to smirk and said, “Oh, I might amuse myself by further decorating – or disguising – our dear Eames' face.” Before Eames could respond with some predictable comeback, Arthur continued, “I doubt he'd trust me topside with himself under, and no one to watch _me_ watching you.”

“Well, Ariadne,” said Yusuf, “what do you say? Do you trust my formulation with the four of us going under?”

“Sure,” said Ariadne, smiling warmly at Yusuf. “Let's do it.”

~o~

Down in the dream, Arthur and Ariadne found themselves in the room Eames had described, with a large mirror over a vanity. 

“Where are Eames and Yusuf?” asked Ariadne.

“Yusuf should be in another room, on the far side of the house, where his subcon won't be disturbed by the forging,” answered Arthur. “Eames will turn up in his own good time, as usual. He's probably preparing some fantastic forge to amaze you with.”

“... or he's still topside decorating _your_ face?” teased Ariadne.

Arthur chuckled. “I did rather leave myself open to that, didn't I? Oh well, maybe I'll leave the dream early and return the favor.

“In the meantime,” Arthur continued, “we can practice some simple forges.” He let his hair grow long, and lose its gelled slickness. He narrowed his chin and softened his jawline; enhanced his cheekbones and rounding his face a bit.

“Oh!” clapped Ariadne. “You make a lovely girl, Arthur,” she said, smiling.

“Thank you,” said Arthur demurely, smiling at her from under his now long eyelashes and giving a slight curtsy in the simple gown he'd forged into.

“Hmm...” Ariadne turned to the mirror, frowning and concentrating. Her face would stretch and morph, but snap instantly back.

“Changing gender is more challenging than it might seem,” suggested Arthur. “Try aging yourself, instead. Imagine your mother, or aunt – if you have an older female relative that you resemble. That will help you modify your own face to look older.”

This Ariadne found easier. She changed her long brown hair to gray and added numerous wrinkles on her face. _Too easy_ , she thought, frowning. _Oh well, life happens – better aging than dying._

“Very good,” approved Arthur. “Now, besides gray hair and wrinkles, think what else happens in a face and body when it ages. Think how wrinkles and other changes might form on your face, particularly.”

Under Arthur's guidance, Ariadne found herself becoming more realistically older, instead of a kind of Halloween-makeup “old woman”. She noticed absently that at some point she'd changed her clothes into a gown similar to Arthur's.

In the mirror Ariadne saw the reflection of something orange moving quickly. Startled, she gasped out. Arthur, who'd also caught a glimpse, whipped around to look out the room's window. It was – an [orangutan](https://i.imgur.com/754olNR.png)? “Does Yusuf have ape projections?” wondered Arthur. He saw the object in its hand. “No way,” he muttered. “Yusuf's subsec is not primates wielding razors; I refuse to believe that.”

Meanwhile the creature was attempting to open the window, perched precariously on the shallow sill with its prehensile toes, and still grasping the long straight-edge razor in one hand. It was fairly dextrous with the other, working at the window's lock from the outside, which Arthur was naturally keeping shut.

Then as suddenly as the beast had appeared so the mystery resolved itself in Arthur's mind. “Ha ha, Eames, very funny,” he said, opening the window to let the forger in.

“Oooh, nice chimp,” said Ariadne.

“Orangutan, really, Ariadne,” said Eames. “But thank you. Not many forgers can do a convincing animal.”

“Told you...” murmured Arthur. He and Ariadne shared a smile.

Meanwhile Eames began shaving the furry beard off his apish face, pursing his large lips one way then the other. “Happy, now, darling?” he asked Arthur.

“Extremely,” responded Arthur dryly.

Eames winked one large dark eye at him, then began explaining the philosophy and fundamentals of successful forging to Ariadne.

Arthur could tolerate for only so long listening to Eames enjoy the sound of his own voice, and wandered off to find Yusuf. It _was_ a really good orangutan, and it's too bad that Yusuf had to miss it. The least Arthur could do was tell him about it...

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote three fics for 2016's spook-me challenge, and utterly failed to bring any horror, creepiness, or anything spooky into any of them *hangs head in shame*


End file.
